Remembering You

It's Just a Pillow

I had been so bored yesterday without Jason and didn't know what to do with myself, but I still felt guilty for having yelled at him so badly last night. Clearly, he had a bad day and I only made it worse. He didn't even yell back; he just said he loved me, and that left me feeling so confused. He had gone from hating my guts entirely when I first woke up to somehow having feelings for me again, and I was over here just trying to figure out if he was not going to kill me every other second. It was the most confusing thing possible.

I got up and put on some of the clothes from the closet which needed to be changed. I had no idea if these were actually my clothes since they all had tags on them, but they seemed to fit like a glove, so I found one of the least formal outfits. It was a thick sweater and pants set that hugged my curves perfectly and had giant white letters that said "pink" on it. I had to imagine it was some sort of inside joke since the material was black, not pink.

I was determined to make it up to Jason and make him breakfast with the stove. In the hospital, breakfast was usually eggs, toast, and sausage, which couldn't be that hard to make. I grabbed the eggs out of the fridge, but the carton that said "eggs" just had white oval balls in it. I put them in the pan and turned the stove on after looking at the pictures on the knobs, hoping I picked the right one.

The eggs turned black, but I still didn't know how to get them to turn soft and yellow like they had at the hospital. I tried smacking one with my spatula, and to my surprise, yellow and clear liquid poured out of the blackened shell. I smashed them all and mixed them up, and save for the shells, they looked like hospital eggs. I sighed and threw it out after tasting it. It was crunchy and had a bad aftertaste.

The second pan went much better since I cracked the egg before letting just the insides come out. The sausage didn't go much better since it seemed to go from red to black extremely fast. I went through a whole box of them before realizing if I turned the heat down, they cooked just right. The last thing I needed was toast. I was sure they went inside the oven, so I put them on a pan and inside the oven, but I wasn't sure what setting to use. Broil seemed like a safe bet, so I started with that.

"Anna?" Jason asked, surprised to see me cooking. His hair was all messy, and he looked exhausted still, but somehow, the messy look was cute for me.

"Uh yea... I'm making breakfast!" I said excitedly, showing him what I had so far.

"Something smells burnt," he commented casually as if trying really hard not to hurt my feelings.

"Yes, I just burned the eggshells a bit, but don't worry, I fixed it!" He frowned and became concerned, looking at the mess I had created.

"You burned the eggshells?" he asked cautiously, tasting the eggs I had put on the plates.

"Yes, why?" I asked, quite proud of how far I had gotten in my breakfast. It looked so much like the hospital breakfast; surely he would love it.

"Fuck, Anna! Fire!" he yelled, jumping back from the stove. Inside, my toast had caught fire and had large flames curling out of the now black bread. Jason grabbed a fire extinguisher from under the cabinet and snapped the pin out rapidly. Within seconds, everything in the stove and counters was covered in white powder, and the fire was out.

"My breakfast!" I said sorrowfully, looking at the mess. Jason just looked at me, still in shock that I had managed to catch bread on fire.

"I'm going to call Beatrice. She will have this cleaned up in no time. I think I'll also order food again...no offense," he said, smiling once he calmed down. I was close to tears, having put in so much work and then still having failed terribly.